I am listening to an audio book by Toko Pa Turner called "Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home." I have been intermittently savoring this book, between other readings for over a month, and am nearing the end of the listen finally, though I have 3 or 4 more hours left of her beautiful voice.

In the chapter on Longing, the hidden center of the word Belonging unfolds in its meaning. I don't know which chapter this is in the regular book, but it is here where Toko Pa Turner talks about Rumi. I had read about the history of his coming into poetry, how it streamed out of him, as vocal transmissions, but Turner puts it in an eloquent way that opens for me a larger truth. I don't have the exact quote but I rewound and listened twice to her amazing revelation that Rumi did not write poetry. All of the poems written by Rumi were written by the people who were around him in his life, who recorded the poems that came as a result of what was happening with Rumi and his Longing.

Of course, Rumi, really was the most amazing poet. But so much of his poetry, his longing, was his life. It is just so interesting to read and read again.